Determination
by Periwinkle PB
Summary: "Dear Diary, Mummy died," was the first words Frisk wrote, "Daddy decided to move back to his hometown, Evottville." Frisk is a nine-year-old child who recently lost their mother. This is like an Undertale prologue story of how Frisk fell into the Underground. Rated T for minor depressing adult themes and possibly violence. I apologize in advance.
1. Chapter 1

**_Hi! Welcome to my depressing Undertale Prologue! I apologize in advance..._**

 ** _Dear Diary,_**

 ** _Mummy died. Her cancer grew too rapidly and she passed yesterday morning in the hospital. Daddy decided to move back to his hometown,_** ** _Evottville. He chose to move back last night. And strangely of such short notice, Daddy was able to rent an apartment. He told me a friend lent it to him. I don't understand much of what's going on right now, and I am not sure how to feel. Everything has been a blur. I have to gather my things quickly since Daddy doesn't want to stay in our old house for long. I suppose he just doesn't want the thought of Mummy to linger._**

 ** _\- Frisk_**

"Frisk, it's time to go!" Frisk's father called from downstairs. Frisk shut their diary and shoved it in their bag then stood up. They stepped into the doorway but lingered there from memories. Frisk turned their body around and looked at their old room. Looking from their bed to their closet, and to their nightstand, atop laying a lonely, unframed picture.

Frisk rested their brown orbs at it for a moment before lightly and delicately stepping over to the picture and picking it up. They stared at the three figures, all hosting large and joyful smiles, happy that they were together. Frisk looked at each face separately: A father; a daughter…a mother. Tears welled in their eyes as they gazed into the sweet toffee brown orbs of their lost mother.

"Frisk, hurry up!" The mentioned child quickly looked away from the picture to see their father leaning on the doorway, "Well?" He asked with a raised eyebrow. Frisk's father looked around the room from where he stood, making sure Frisk got everything. Frisk took that time to hide the picture in their bag before following their father, who had begun to trudge downstairs.

As Frisk followed their father, they inspected his appearance. His chocolate brown hair was messy and uncombed, unlike theirs, the same color but neatly brushed and orderly. They noticed earlier that his green-blue eyes were bloodshot and puffy, partnered with dark purple circles under them. Stubble had begun to grow on his face, and he wore the same clothes as he did yesterday. The wretched scent of whiskey and deodorant invaded Frisk's nose as they followed their father, making it obvious he had been drinking, and probably attempted to mask it with a manly antiperspirant.

They both walked onto the front lawn, where Frisk saw their father's Subaru Impreza on the edge of the road. The dull gray car sat motionless in contrast to the grass and trees dancing in the wind. Frisk followed their father to the car and watched as he fumbled with the car keys. After 10 seconds, he was able to submit the silver key into the molded hole. As their father seated himself in the driver's seat, Frisk looked back at their old house.

The house's tan walls and peach roof had always looked strange. " _The peach roof makes me think of the sweet memories we'll have here!"_ They remembered their mother saying when they first moved into the house. Frisk then recalled their mother always said _: "I think the colors make our house cheery and full of life!"_ They observed the house more. Tired and miserable, was what Frisk decided it looked like now.

"C'mon, Baby Girl," their heard their father's voice say gently. Frisk snapped out of their thoughts and quickly got into the car. They continued to stare at the peach and tan house as their father drove away.

 _ **You might be confused about why I write Frisk with "they" and "their" pronouns, but their dad said, "C'mon, Baby Girl," is because, in my headcanon thing, Frisk was born as a girl, but isn't really gendered. And in the game, Frisk is a non-gendered child to appeal to all gamers. I hope you enjoyed the first chapter to this prologue story. Bye!**_


	2. Chapter 2

_**Hey, new chapter... Yay. Enjoy ;3**_

 _ **Dear Diary,**_

 _ **I asked Daddy about our apartment. He said he didn't know too much about it. The only thing he knew is that it's cheap. I also wanted to know about the town more— since Daddy grew up there— I assumed he would know a lot about it. Daddy explained that it's a small town, with many little local stores. They even have a local news station. The town is nestled at the edge of a large mountain called Mt. Evott, which is what the town was named after. Father says it was rumored to be an old active volcano, but he says that that's not true.**_

 _ **We have been driving for about five hours. I've just been staring out the window and thinking. When I was thinking, I had realized that I have never moved in my life. I have always lived in the same tan house and peach roof from the day I was born. I can't believe so much can change in just a few days. Just because of someone going away.**_

 _ **-Frisk**_

Frisk looked up from their little black diary and stared out the window. They watched trees and cars whiz by as they lightly tapped their pen on their diary. They began to think of their mother.

Frisk's mother was a sweet and kind lady. She had warm toffee brown eyes and wavy strawberry blonde hair that reached to her shoulders. Her name was Abigail. But she had pancreatic cancer, and the doctors couldn't help slow it down. She was diagnosed when Frisk was five. They didn't understand what was going on with their mother, but they didn't want their her to go away. For seven years, Frisk watched their mother go to and from the hospital every other week with their father as well. Frisk never went with them, they always stayed home with their nanny, Ms. Tiffany. Ms. Tiffany was a young woman in her early twenties when she started taking care of Frisk. When Frisk was eleven, Abigail was put in the hospital until her cancer could get better, and because of the expensive hospital bills, Frisk's father stopped paying Ms. Tiffany. Frisk has always wondered how their old nanny was doing now. _Maybe she's married_ , Frisk often thinks. It is the most possible and positive possibility. _She could still be single and still in college_ , is another common thought that crosses Frisk's mind. They remembered Ms. Tiffany had always wanted to become a teacher. _She could also—_

"We're almost there, Sweetie," Frisk was snapped out their thoughts and looked away from the window to their father, who was in the seat in front of them. They looked through the windshield and saw a gigantic mountain, which they assumed that that was Mt. Evott. Below the towering mountain, Frisk saw a small town, short to large buildings scattered the area, all the sad color of ashen cement. As the Subaru grew closer, they investigated the buildings further. There was a row of tall buildings that looked like apartments— Frisk assumed they would live there— they saw a short building with many satellites on it— Frisk concluded that that was the local news station. They finally reached the outskirts of town, and Frisk could barely hear their father mutter:

"We're home, Abigail..."

* * *

Frisk's father weaved through the streets of his hometown, searching for the apartment he had rented. Frisk asked their father if the row of apartments they saw was where they were going to live, but their father immediately batted away the idea. Turns out, that row of tall buildings were old office buildings that weren't being used anymore. Frisk sighed and looked out the window, staring at all the old looking shops and the few melancholy looking people walking around.

Eventually, Frisk's father got onto the right street and found the apartment— if you could even call it that. Frisk gasped at the sight. They glared at the lone two story building on the edge of the street with cracked gray bricks and vines growing up the building. Frisk scowled at the sight, not wanting to go near their new home. But they reluctantly got out of the car when their father did.

"George, it's great to see ya!" Frisk heard a raspy voice holler their father's name. They broke their eyes away from the horrid building to see an overweight man waddling over to their father. He wore basketball shorts and a light jacket (which made no sense to Frisk), and had a large nose and slouching stature. He looked to be in his late 50s. The man opened his arms wide and enclosed Frisk's father in a tight hug. So tight that George couldn't even move his arms.

"Hello," Frisk's father gasped for air, "Steve." Steve let go of George and began to talk right away.

"How are ya doing? It's been a long time! So why'd you want to rent an apartment? Is this your daughter? Where's good, old Abby?" Frisk froze at that last question. So did their father. Steve's jolly eyes looked at George's tired and miserable green-blue orbs and then everything clicked for him.

"Oh, George, I'm so sorry," Steve started to apologize, "I wish I had known." Frisk's father represented his forgiveness by patting Steve on the back, and after a moment of silent respect for the deceased, the middle-aged man was back to normal.

"So, is this your daughter?" Steve waddled over to Frisk.

"Yep," George stood next to Frisk now, "This is Frisk. Frisk, this is my friend, Steve."

"But you can call me Uncle Steve!" Steve added, winking at Frisk, "But hey, let's go see you guy's new apartment!" George immediately followed after Steve, but Frisk was a bit more reluctant. They didn't want to go inside their "new apartment." The building looked so old that it might collapse in on itself at any moment.

"Come on, Frisk!" their father called at the doorway into the apartment. Frisk followed their father and went inside with him. Frisk and their father followed Steve up the stairs inside.

"The apartment down there is mine," Steve explained as he reached the top of the stairs, "So I'm your only neighbor!" Frisk saw that the door is right at the end of the stairway, there wasn't even a hall between them. They watched Steve impatiently fumble with the keys, awkwardly chuckling at Frisk's father and Frisk. Eventually, he was able to insert the key and open the door. A terrible squeaky sound flooded Frisk's ears when the door creaked open.

"Welcome to your new home!" Steve exclaimed, motioning his arms wide and facing us as he backed up in the apartment. The inside looked worse than the outside. The carpet floor was stained with too many colors to count. The couch to the left was very moth-eaten. An old T.V sat in front of the couch on an unbalanced small T.V stand. To the right was the kitchen. The tile floor that designated the area of the kitchen was cracked and a few tiles were missing. The counter top was coated with dust and dirt. In between the two areas were a short hall with two doors on each side and a door at the end of the hall.

"There's your living room, your kitchen, and the doors to the left and right are bedrooms and the one at the end is the bathroom," Steve said, gesturing to everything as he mentioned it. Frisk looked aghast and somewhat dumbfounded. _How could we live here?_ Frisk questioned. They looked at their father, wanting to see his expression. But they could see nothing on his face.

"Thank you so much, Steve. This is perfect," Frisk's father stated in a monotone voice.

Steve chuckled, "No problem! Well, I'll leave you to it!" Frisk and their father moved out of the way to let Steve pass through the doorway and down the stairs. Frisk watched their father go down the stairs without saying anything. Frisk assumed that their father was going to get the luggage that was still in the Subaru. Frisk looked around the room once more in disgust and trailed after their father.

When Frisk got outside, their father was already lugging out suitcases and bags and boxes. Frisk immediately started helping without saying a word. Their father didn't say anything either. They both stuffed their arms full of luggage and headed back to their apartment. It took about five trips before they had transferred all the luggage into their new living space. They dropped all of the unimportant boxes and such in the living room and placed their personal things in their new rooms. Frisk got the bedroom to the right, and their father got the left bedroom.

Frisk looked outside the one window in their bedroom as they sat up in bed. They held their diary in their hand and a pen in their other. Frisk's little lamp sat on a rickety nightstand to the right of their bed. The rest of their room was empty, only a few boxes of Frisk's items. After they wrote another diary entry for the day, Frisk placed their diary onto the nightstand and clicked the lamp off. As Frisk laid in bed, they could hear the faint sound of crying from the room of their father...


End file.
